


What Roman knows, Ingo thinks, and Annette says

by Charmion



Category: Alles was zählt
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charmion/pseuds/Charmion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set somewhere between ep 750 and 754 - sort of missing scene, but I think I slightly bent the storyline. After recent escapades in the locker room with Deniz, Roman is confused, and tries to get his friends to talk sense into him. Being his friends, they react unpredictably. Little plot, just character's views and talk and thinky thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Roman knows, Ingo thinks, and Annette says

**Author's Note:**

> Spring cleaning! Found this story good as finished on an old harddrive and thought I'd post it. I used to watch this show online thanks to the good folks of the EskimoKissProject (who I think are the originators of the line marked with the *). In all its glorious soapiness and sometimes ridiculous storylines it used to have so much fun with dialogue, and so do I. Also, Ingo and Annette should have been real and my friends. Hence this bit.

Roman knew better.

He sighed and sank deeper into the worn-out couch that was at the heart of the flatshare. With his fingers he traced a seam that almost came apart, and then the pattern, which had faded so much as to be visible only in Roman's memory.

Or maybe he just couldn't see because he didn't turn on the lights.

Roman knew better now and he'd known better all those months ago, when he'd gone straight on from crying into Annette's lap over Cold-hearted Bastard Deniz, who'd watched him being beaten to a pulp, to helping Sad Deniz try to figure out whether he wanted to kiss Roman or step on his heart. He'd known better when Deniz started lying to him, a day into their relationship (and had he ever stopped?)

Hadn't he known better than to put his faith and trust in a young boy, who'd never reciprocate and who'd never take their relationship further than the next street corner? The street corner he would then flatly refuse to turn? Roman had known better than to try and hold a boy like Deniz in shackles of his love. And when Deniz escaped, he'd known better than to try to lure him back with promises of freedom.

But he'd done it all anyway.

"You are much older than him, so you are expected to be the wisest," Ingo had said once. Much as he preferred Idiot Zadek over Papa Zadek, usually, Papa Zadek wasn't often wrong and he had a point. Roman was more experienced than Deniz. He should have known confusion and insecurity weren't cute afflictions, but instead real obstacles to any sort of relationship. Puppies were only _on their way_ to being grown-ups. Indecisiveness was no foundation for anything at all.

And Deniz _had_ finally decided, hadn't he? He'd chosen Vanessa and to be a real bastard in the end. Full circle.

And Roman had lived.  To be honest, that had been a bit unexpected. The only thing higher on his list of possible causes of death than a broken heart was humiliation, and in those days he was slowly committing suicide by embarrassment. But perhaps he hadn't been humiliated quite enough. After all, he hadn't deleted Deniz' phone number and that had been the only thread between them for a long time.

And now that thin thread had pulled Roman right back into Deniz' orbit. He knew better than to enter into that dragon-infested territory.

And yet.

The sound of the door interrupted Roman's silent admonishments. He hoped that whoever just entered wouldn't notice his presence in the shadows. (Then again, if he really didn't want to be noticed, why wasn't he home right now instead of in the flatshare?)

"Bunny?"

Thinking of invisibility obviously didn't render one invisible, Roman thought, disappointed. "Zadek."

"Do I need to get you a tissue box? "

"Zadek."

"I only ask because while I can't see you very clearly, you look like you're either about to cry or about to... Well. Tissues solve all issues."*

"Zadek." Roman looked sternly at him, though he suspected Ingo couldn't see it.  

He shut his eyes when Ingo dropped himself face-forward over the armrest on the couch and then lifted his head, staring at Roman with his chin resting on his hands. "That bad?"

"Mmm."

"So you're sitting here in the shadows with your drama face on because "mmm"?"

"Mmm."

"While you're probably waiting until Annette is coming home, to me you look like you could use some sound manly advice, which I am perfectly capable of dispensing. Better than Annette, obviously. Talk to Ingo. What's wrong?"

Roman sighed again, thought for a moment and then said, "Deniz."

"Ah. Not manly advice, then. Annette!"

"Ingo." Roman sat up, planting his elbows on his knees and resting his chin in his hands. "I don't know what to do."

Ingo reached out and snapped on the light. Then he turned his body around, pulled his legs underneath him and sat down next to Roman. "Do you need to do anything?"

"I already did. In the locker room."

Ingo rolled his eyes. "Roman. Do you honestly think that that's an image I need to have about the place where I dress myself for work?"

"So do I. And I ride the elevator, which, need I remind you, you and Annette once made good use of."

"True. I guess we're even now."

Roman opened his hands and looked at his palms. "I thought it was different this time. It felt different." The words began to tumble out of his mouth. Once he started, he couldn't stop. It was a problem. "But afterwards he just looked at me like he had something difficult to say but not the guts to say it - as per usual. I knew what it would be. I've heard it ten times before. What, ten? A hundred. "I'm sorry, Roman. I didn't mean it like that." And then I'm left to figure out what he didn't mean and what 'like that' actually _is_ , because damn if he is going to explain _._ And the next moment he'll turn around and say "I want to be with you, Roman. Just you." But 'you' can be me or anyone who catches his fancy whenever he doesn't feel 100%. He's a boy. He's a puppy. I'm nine years older than him. And I'm an idiot. I'm more of an idiot than he is, because I _know better._ "

"Bunny. Breathe."

"Zadek?" With pleading eyes Roman turned to Ingo, who laid a hand on his knee.

 "So, recap. You played hide the salami in the locker room. And you thought it was all butterflies and  sparklies and rainbows from now on - Ha! I kill myself - but Deniz did not propose to you afterwards. Instead he stuttered and stammered and beat around the bush." Disturbingly enough, Ingo started illustrating his story with literal hand gestures and exaggerated facial expressions. "Since you and he have been around this particular bush quite a few times already, you, Roman Wild, decided that enough was enough and explained to him, no doubt using your trademark acerbic wit, exactly what he thought and felt and actually meant to say. So, Roman, after you slammed the door of the locker room in his face, which I'm quite sure you did, what did he do?"

With every note Ingo hit right in his little story - and there were quite a few - Roman had cringed.  "He follows me around with puppy eyes," he replied, deciding it was no use to deny any of it.

"Puppy eyes, eh." Ingo's voice betrayed nothing of his thoughts on this, but Roman had suspicions. Considering the ease with which he had filled in the blanks of Roman's story on his encounter with Deniz, he was starting to think the Ingo was either some great Seer of truths, or he, Roman, was utterly transparent to the world at large. 

"Yes."

"And you?"

"I don't want to talk to him." Roman looked up at Ingo from underneath his brow.

Ingo threw up his hands and rolled his eyes. " _Men!"_

Groaning, Roman hid his head in Ingo's lap. "I know."

For a minute Ingo was silent. When he spoke again his voice was different. "Bunny, is there any reason, at all, to think that you are wrong?" Papa Zadek was back, and he was serious.  Roman braced himself. "Deniz does seem to have grown up a bit lately. I even think I like him. Could he be serious? About you?"

And now Papa Zadek was getting his hopes up. "I have absolutely no, zero, no reason at all to trust or believe him. I've been there and done that and it never got me anywhere." Perhaps, perhaps Ingo wouldn't notice his evasion.

"Well then." Ingo pursed his lips. "As much as I'd hate to interrupt you indulging your dramatic flair, I'd like to point something out to you: last time you walked away. Why don't you walk away again?"

 ***

It was no use talking to Ingo. Or course it was no use talking to Ingo. Walk away again? Ha. As if it was that easy. As if there wasn't Essen, and his friends,  and the skating rink, and Deniz' big brown eyes and square shoulders. To say nothing of...

No, don't think about that.

Roman hated this. He hated feeling like this, he hated the complete loss of control he felt whenever he was attracted to someone. He'd been through it with Mark. He'd been through it with he-who-must-not-be-named. He'd been kept on a leash and pulled along and left to the whims of the one he loved, and he had followed witlessly and then the ones he loved had invariably left him. Okay, maybe Mark had been different. Mark had had a reason. A solid one, if he was honest. And he had ended things with Deniz, in the end, not the other way around. But still. He'd been his own man and then he wasn't and he didn't seem able to make his own decisions anymore and he ended up miserable.

He needed to take back the reins. He needed more ammunition to fight this... thing inside him that told him to roll over and just take it. That whispered that maybe, maybe, maybe this time Deniz really _meant it_. That it was real. And if he was in control again, he could kick Deniz and his feelings to the curb and go on with his life. 'Walk away,' as Ingo had said, making it sound so easy. 

Annette was next on his list of People To Talk To About Deniz. She'd be all romantic about it, sure, but the sugary perfect imagery she'd craft for him would be enough to crack the enamel off his teeth and shock him into reason. Or so he hoped. Too much of a good thing would be his medicine.

***

"Deniz? In the locker room?"

He'd forgotten he'd left her mostly out of the loop. He'd forgotten that his embarrassment at finding himself in exactly the same spot on exactly the same time in a consecutive year, had caused him to tell her very little about his feelings lately. So they hadn't spoken much about...

 "Deniz. In the locker room. With..." He threw up his hands, suddenly lacking the energy to finish the joke.

"Oh, Roman... " The concern in her voice unexpectedly made his eyes water. He was standing outside the fry stand. Annette dropped the towel she'd been cleaning with and quickly walked outside to position herself in front of him, her hands on his shoulders, shaking him lightly.

Not the sugar, then.

"Do I need to remind you of the salt you've spilled on my shoulder over Deniz? What he did? How angry you were? I don't mean..." She sighed. "I don't mean that people can't change because I feel they can - you are the cynic here, not me, may I remind you. But Deniz? He broke your heart. Multiple times." Her brown eyes were brimming with concern. "Are you... Are you sure?"

Roman threw up his hands in a gesture he knew to be overly dramatic, but that was how he felt. "No! I'm not sure at all! I never want to see him again and I want to see him every day! He said all those things and I hate him because he makes me want to think he was sincere but I don't. No, Nettchen, I don't want to be with him, I want to get rid of all this as soon as I can!"

"What things?" There it was. Utterly romantic Annette.

"Well. He said... things. During..." He gestured.

"Ah. And those... things..." She gestured. "... they were... romantic? Loving? Or..."

 "'Roman, you are so wonderful, special, never felt this, blabla.' Things." He looked at his shuffling feet, his toes idly chasing the shadows of a tree. 

"Oh." She hesitated. "And has he ever said these... things... before?"

"Yes, he has. At exactly the same time he told Vanessa he loved her. This is nothing new for him. But Annette..." He took a deep breath, then grabbed her hands. "All those times before there was always that niggling doubt. But I believed him this time. I truly believed him. For some time at least."

Then Annette did something unexpected: she leaned forward and lay her cheek to his, whispering in his ear. "Roman. _Süßer._ Remember one important thing: the fact that someone says he thinks you are wonderful does not mean you have to find them wonderful back. Or do something about it." She withdrew and looked him in the eye again. "Love can be one-sided. It's no fun that way, but it can be."

"Reeeeaaally?" Not trying to love someone back? Mmm. New thought. It occurred to him this could be the beginning of an epiphany: when people loved him or fancied him, he would always at least try to reciprocate. He shelved the whole idea for later. At this moment it was not very useful. "So I guess that settles that, then. I just do away with everything that I feel and decide to stop loving him. End of problems for Roman."

"So you love him. It's more than spark."

Roman shrugged. "Of course I do. That's done. I have been in lust with him for as long as I can remember, and whenever I have the chance to stop hating him, either because he is nice or genuine or so bloody damn hopeful and funny, I immediately start loving him again. There seems to be no in-between. I want lukewarm, but it's always freezing or searing with Deniz. Except for the sex, of course, that's never freezing. Even the hatesex is hot." For a minute he was overwhelmed by the imagined feeling of Deniz' warm hands on his back, his lips on that little spot behind his ear that is oh so sensitive, the sound of his growls in his ear when he... Oh.

"So ignore him."

Roman repressed his thoughts with some force, but it was hard. "How can I ignore him when I want nothing more than to jump his bones?"

"Roman!" Annette hit the table with a fist, making him snap to attention. "You're being deliberately obtuse and difficult! In spite of what you seem to think, you are the boss of you. You want to end it, end it. Stop seeing him, and eventually all that white hot feeling will fade away. Stop feeding the fire."

"Annette!" He hid his face in his hands, then looked at her through his fingers. "I was counting on you. You were supposed to say that I should tell him how I feel and paint me pictures of us riding into the sunset together! And then I would be the one to argue that this was not how the world works and that I was being a realist if I'd end it before it started, and basta. This is not helping, because I want to argue with you and now I want to say that I..."

He fell silent. Then he started to talk again, quietly.

"I want to say that I don't want to ignore him. That I want to go to Deniz and hug him and kiss him silly and then drag him to my cave. But I don't know if I can trust him. And I'm scared."

"Of course you are, dear Roman: you are scared and you are paralyzed. Come, I will fry something and you will get your groove back. Promise.  One _Wurst_ and you will do something. "

"About that. Do you think I ought to call Diana? I could just run away to Halle."

Annette's shriek made him afraid of his hearing.


End file.
